After Life
by inkedhymnal
Summary: A collection of one shots about the KH 2 characters and what happens to them after the battle to save the worlds. In Progess, and mostly set in AUs for the Organization Members


This is the first in a series of one shots about the KH 2 characters and what I think happened to them after the big battle to save the worlds and what not. Most of these are AU, as most I have placed most of the Organization XIII members into something similar to our world, or almost. I did that because this is what I think they might have been before becoming Nobodies and Heartless. So, like it or love it, let me know, and please enjoy.

Rated: PG-13 for safety (mostly for violence and suggestive themes)

**AFTER LIFE**

**- Larxene -**

"Come on! Pout for me darling! That's it!" crowed the photographer for about the hundredth time.

Larxene frowned, which of course was exactly what the photographer wanted, though she was frowning out of anger rather than his orders. Why were all these photographers on drugs? They yelled all the time, as if the model couldn't hear them from where they stood ten feet away. Honestly, it hurt her ears to listen to the man screech for the forty-five minutes the shoot had gone on for so far.

"Enough!" Larxene finally barked at the photographer, blowing past him towards her duffle bag and grabbing a bottle of all natural spring water, chugging it down like an old drinking pro.

"Ah, but darling…," the photographer began, arms open in a pleading gesture.

"First off, I am _not _your darling," Larxene snarled. "Second off, I have a headache from you yelling at me every five seconds. Now, I am going to go change into the last outfit, and we shall finish this _without_ you yelling at me so often, yes?"

The photographer seemed stunned for a moment, then sighed and nodded. "Yes, Miss Larxene," he replied in a detached voice.

Larxene nodded her approval and tossed her water back in her bag as she headed back towards the dressing rooms. She silently congratulated herself on bringing yet another photographer into line. It really wasn't that hard, considering who she was.

Larxene was the number one model in the industry. Her sexy curves made men swoon and drool, while women looked at her with envy and wished they were her. Every photographer, from the lowest amateur to the highest paid professional simply jumped at the chance to be called in to be in charge of her latest photo shoot, and every magazine was nipping at heels, trying to get a deal with her. She had made ten covers in her first year of modeling alone, practically skyrocketing to the top. No one doubted she belonged there, and she practically had a cult fan base across the world.

Of course, this was only because most people never saw the real Larxene. She acted sweet enough to the public, and bossy enough to the staff, but on the inside she was really nothing like that. She hated everyone around her. They were all incompetent and her nerves were severely tested everyday as she attempted to survive one more interview or one more photo shoot. It was even worse when she had to go out in public. It took all her self-control not to just use her bodyguards as baseball bats and knock every fan for leagues around out of the park, so to speak.

In short, Larxene was in fact the meanest, nastiest person around.

"Is my next outfit ready?" she growled as she flung open the door to her dressing room.

Almost instantly she was assaulted by the smell of flowers, roses to be exact. Larxene stared in dumbfounded shock at her dressing room. The place was flooded with roses of all kinds – blue, white, red, yellow, pink. They sat atop every available surface, leaving only a slim pathway from the door to her dressing table. It was like an army had just invaded and taken up residence and wasn't about to budge.

Carefully, she picked her way down the narrow path left open to her and took a seat at the dressing table, and instead of being met by her reflection she found herself staring at a card taped to the mirror. Her initial shock now coming to a boil in a fit of rage, she tore it from the mirror and ripped it open with her nails, not caring if they were ruined (she could always get fakes till they grew back). She nearly tore the letter inside in two when she ripped it out, the paper snapping audibly when she flicked it open.

_Dearest Larxene,_

_I send you ten thousand roses for the ten thousand kisses we have not yet shared. I hope, my love, that they will be able to tide you over till we are united._

_Forever Your Love,_

_XXX_

Larxene stared at the letter. They were _not _serious. She fought down the urge to hurl as she read the letter over again. With a shriek of rage she crumpled it into a ball and pulled open the dressing table's drawer, picking out the lighter she had left in there. With much glee, she held the letter up to the lighter's flame and watched it as it turned to ash.

That done, she picked a flower from the bouquet nearest her and held up a single, yellow rose. It seemed sad to have to do this – the flowers had done nothing to her and yellow was her favorite color – but they were symbol of the freak's "_dying love_" for her and simply must be destroyed. She rose from her chair and went to the door and held up the flower. The lighter sparked to life, it's little orange flame leaping hungrily into the air.

She watched impassively as the rose caught, and the yellow petals began to smoke, turn black, and finally began to shine a brilliant orange. With a smirk, she threw the rose into the nearest bouquet and watched to make sure the others caught. Sure that the other bouquets would catch to, she shut the door and pocketed the lighter, heading for the exit.

Her bodyguards looked up from their magazines as she opened the door with a bang to the outside, jumping to their feet like small children caught trying to grab a cookie from the cookie jar before supper time.

"Get my car," she ordered nastily, heading towards the parking lot.

One of the guards radioed her driver, and within seconds she was snug inside her limo, drinking a glass of champagne. She had to hold back a maniacal laugh when she saw a fire truck rushing by the car in the obvious direction of the photo shoot. She held up her glass of champagne as if to toast someone.

"Here's to you, Stalker," she grinned, and downed the champagne with all the skill of an old pro.

---------------

"_Yesterday afternoon, at Guiera's Photo Gallery, there was fire. Thankfully, the only thing damaged was the small area around the dressing room of top supermodel Larxene. While the cause is still unknown, police have discovered what looks likes the ashes from flowers, thousands of them, though they are unsure of what kind. _

_Mr. Guiera had no comment, though his lawyer did say that they would get to the cause of this fire and assure everyone that no such incident shall happen again. We also received word that Larxene was not injured during the fire. She left the Photo Gallery before the fire department arrived, and has offered no comment to our cameras, and it is unknown if she is suspect in this arson or not. _

_This is Jessica Smith, reporting live for KTCB 9 News. Back to you Bob."_

Larxene giggled to herself as she flipped the channel. Yes, it had worked like a charm. Naturally, with her involved, the media was all over it. Of course, she wasn't going to talk to anyone about it, but if the Stalker didn't see that then he obviously wasn't trying hard enough.

She sipped her cocoa as she curled up on her couch, dressed in a silk bathrobe, smelling clean from her shower. She could smell the Chinese cuisine her cook was frying in the kitchen a few rooms over, and could hear the clatter of the maid as she set the table for Larxene. Life was good as a top model. Most models would sit and worry about their weight, but Larxene ate as she pleased and exercised accordingly. Her agents had no problem, and her manager didn't dare argue with her now. If her manager dropped her from the list she would be picked up just as fast by a rival agency and she had no doubt her manager's bosses would fire said manager of the spot for such a lapse in judgment.

"Miss Larxene, Mr. Ferris is here," announced her maid from the entry way to the living room.

Speak of the devil. "Oh, send him in," she said, waving her hand dismissively as she focused on her television show.

The maid disappeared and returned a few minutes later with a slick looking man. He was dressed in an ash gray suit with a red tie and white undershirt. His black hair was slicked back in the sexy, stylish manner businessmen were prone too, and calculating brown eyes peered at Larxene.

"Daniel," Larxene said, stretching out on the couch so she forced him to take a seat on the single that was at her head.

"Larxene," Daniel said. Larxene had long ago given permission for Daniel to call her Larxene without the 'Miss' in front of it as she ordered all other staff to do. Daniel was her closest friend, if you wanted to call him that, and they had an relationship that was purely professional, but offered bonuses outside of the company.

"What brings you here?" Larxene asked, sipping her cocoa.

Daniel smiled, his lips pulling back to reveal his teeth. "Nice publicity stunt back at the Gallery. However, I'd ask you to clear it with me next time, considering it was a fire."

Larxene smirked. "It was a spur of the moment thing, Daniel, you understand," she purred.

"Hmm, yes, I do," Daniel admitted, crossing his legs and setting clasped hands atop his knee. "But, you usually don't do things like that without a reason. Care to tell?"

Larxene pondered this for a moment. She had Daniel under her thumb, that was for sure. She was his money train, with a few extra perks when she allowed it, so she knew she could get him to do anything that would keep her happy. Her happiness was everything to him, even if he didn't know it.

"I came to my dressing room and found several thousand roses stuffed inside," she said simply. She watched as Daniel merely perked an eyebrow. She took another sip of cocoa. "And I found a note. It was from a stalker, but he's obviously skilled since he managed to get so many roses in my room. I decided to send him a reply." She smiled at Daniel, though it held no warmth or amusement. It was the kind of smile that said – "either agree with it or stay quiet, else I dump you like a sack of potatoes".

Daniel was quiet for a bit, and then, "I can see you're having fun with this."

"Am I?" Larxene giggled.

Daniel sighed and rubbed a temple, "Indeed." He paused and sniffed. "Might I join you for dinner, Larxene? We can discuss this Stalker matter…later," he said.

She smiled at him dangerously. "Of course. Rosy, set another place!" she called to her maid and rose from the couch, heading towards the dining room, that dangerous smile plastered on her face.

--------------

The Stalker had apparently gotten the message. Through the next two weeks, Larxene received flowers and notes on a regular basis. When she woke up, the hallway outside her penthouse suite was flooded with flowers and a single note that always read '_Dearest Larxene, Hope your day starts wonderfully. Forever Your Love, XXX'. _She would automatically burn the note and have all the flowers given away freely in front of the hotel. The second time happened when she came home from work, and this time she would find only a single note and a single yellow rose at the foot of the door. The note would always read '_Dearest Larxene, Sweet dreams. Forever Your Love, XXX'._ She would automatically burn the letter and throw the rose out the window to the street below.

Now, approaching the beginning of the second week, Larxene rode in her limo towards the Chantel Magna, a rental party hall that only the richest of the rich could afford. She had forgotten who had invited her, but Daniel had said she should go in order to increase her status.

Larxene already knew that bit, but when she calculated in the paparazzi and news cameras, she could only quiet her raging mind by picking out an outfit to wear as she thought of the Stalker, who would no doubt be watching. She had forbidden her maid to enter her room at any point after she agreed to go to the party, and spent most of her time in it in the days leading up to the party.

She couldn't fail to notice though, that the day after she agreed to go to the party and the days leading up to it, her flowers and notes twice a day stopped. Instead, she received a single note at noon with a single yellow rose petal attached. Always, the note would read '_You'll be the bell of the ball. Forever Your Love, XXX'. _Of course, this only made Larxene want to hurl every time she saw it, and promptly burned it before her gag reflex kicked in.

Finally, the night of the party came and Larxene was dressed to impress. Her hair was combed to a perfect sheen, and she wore a sexy little number of a black gown. It was slit up the side to almost her waist, exposing her right leg. Of course, that also allowed one to see the double bands she had around her upper thigh. Well, that's all the seemed like. On the inside of her thigh rested a pouch, holding five special knives. Tonight she would get that Stalker.

-------------

She ignored the glare of paparazzi cameras with practiced ease as she glided up to the steps to the Chantel Magna, handing off her ermine fur coat to the boy at the entrance. She smirked to herself as she felt all eyes unconsciously turn on her as she entered and made her way into the crowd, a shining beacon of beauty and perfection that no one in the room could match. She picked up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and sipped it delicately as she slipped through the crowd, admiring the décor.

Her eyes scanned the guests, looking for someone who could be the stalker. She was stopped many times, having to trade formalities as were needed, especially with magazine heads and top agency directors. It wouldn't do to be rude to such _fine _people. She of course accepted invitations to dance, and was on her very best behavior, despite the fact she wanted to tear out the eyes of many of dance partners as their eyes took in a little to much when they got to close to her.

Finally, after nearly three hours of the disgusting party, she felt a hand clasp her bare shoulders, and a familiar voice whisper close in her ear. "Care to come to the balcony with me? I know you must be bored, Larxene."

Larxene turned and smiled charmingly at Daniel. "Of course," she said and allowed him to lead her through the press of people to the stairs and guide her up.

The party took up two levels, though the second was meant for those people who sought sanctuary. There were few there, of course, and the few that were were making new allies in conventional and nonconventional ways. Larxene ignored that, concentrating on where Daniel was leading her.

He lead her through a long hallway and finally out through a set of small doors onto a tiny balcony in the back of the Chantel Magna. It faced towards the park and the inner city, the buildings lighting up like some sort of scene from a fantasy book. Of course, Larxene couldn't care less. She didn't care for such pretty sites or romantic settings. It all just made her sick.

"Hmm, glad to be out of that mess," Daniel said, leaning against the railing, perhaps a little to close to Larxene.

"Indeed," she said, curling her lips up in a show her distaste. "I hate these social things. I absolutely want to just regurgitate what I had for lunch."

"Hmm, you could, but that would ruin your image as the belle of the ball," Daniel said, his sharp brown eyes sliding around to watch her.

Larxene took it all in stride, smiling sweetly, which was hard for her. "Oh, certainly there are much prettier girls than me in there," she said.

Daniel snorted. "I know you don't believe that, and neither do I, Larxene," he stated flatly.

"Oh, you've made that quite clear," Larxene said, stepping back from the railing to stand behind Daniel, a nasty grin on her face.

Daniel frowned and turned, his back to the rail, to look at her. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked her.

She giggled in that evil way of hers and her hand slipped beneath the folds of her dress and drew out the knives. "Why, my dear Daniel, I'm talking about all the roses you've been sending me over the past weeks. The letters too."

Daniel blinked at her. "Larxene, those are from a stalker. Surely you don't believe that it was me."

She flashed him a chilly smile and stroked one of the knife's edges. "Hmm, actually, I do." She stepped in close to him, pointing the knives at his throat. "First hint: you avoided the topic of stalker the night you came over for dinner – the night _of _the fire. Hint number two: you are the only one who could clear so many flowers being brought to me so many times without anyone getting suspicious. You'd just have to write it off as a gift from some magazine head or another. Number three: Somehow, the stalker knew I had accepted the invitation to this party, when I didn't even tell the hosts I was coming. Only you knew. Hint four: One of the notes said 'belle of the ball'. You just repeated those words. And finally, hint five: you are the only person I have ever allowed to call me plain 'Larxene'." She finished, smirking at him.

Daniel stared at her for a long time, and then finally smirked himself and began to laugh. "I underestimated you, _Dearest Larxene_." He braced himself against the railing, drawing back just a little from the daggers. "I have to admit though, those flowers surely did drain my pocket of its cash."

Larxene kept her chilling smile on. "Just one question: why?" she hissed.

Daniel laughed for a bit, though Larxene never let her smile falter. When he had calmed down, he took a deep breath and said, "Because, _Dearest Larxene_, I hate you. I hate the fact you have me under your thumb and that you know it, that I'm your toy and you treat me no better than that. I had hopped a stalker would unnerve you, even undo you. I didn't care if you were the biggest money maker under my supervision, I still hated you, and still do. Clearly stalker strategy isn't the way to go on you."

Larxene took it in and then opened her mouth, laughter peeling out like a silver bell in the early morning. She laughed and laughed and laughed, all the while her mind ticking, calculating, absorbing it all in. When she calmed down, she pressed her knives closer to Daniel's throat and leaned in so their lips barely touched.

"There's one thing you should know about me, Daniel," she purred.

"Oh?" Daniel spat.

She smiled again, this time in such a way hell would freeze over. "When one of my toys breaks, I throw them out," she hissed.

Daniel's eyebrows furrowed, then shot up as she kissed him passionately. She retreated quickly from the kiss, leaving him still partially stunned and sliced down his jugular vein, blood gushing out like a red waterfall. She caught him as he was about to collapse from the sudden pain and ever so gently leaned him over the side of the railing.

With a final look of despair, Daniel fell, Larxene leaning over the railing and waving good bye, like a fair maiden wishing her prince farewell. When she heard a satisfying thunk from the ground below, she waltzed over to a plant and picked a leaf, using it to wipe the blood from her dagger and slipped it back in its pouch. She threw drew out her lighter and burned the leaf, letting the ashes drift away on the wind.

She made sure she was clean before heading back through the doors and down the hall back down into the party. No one suspected anything wrong and she moved through the paces like the professional she was. By the time the party was over and she was leaving, no one had discovered Daniel yet, and wasn't likely to till the weekly cleaning of the garden, which would happen in one week. They had been preened the garden that morning, after all.

"Is Mr. Daniel not returning with us?" her driver asked as he opened the door for her.

"No, Sal," she said and slipped inside. She grabbed a bottle of champagne and poured a glass, sipping it delicately. She peered at it, watching the bubbles fizz and sighed, leaning back heavily against the seat. "I'll have to find a new toy," she muttered, and downed the champagne like an old pro.

-------------

Please, drop a line and tell me if you liked it or not. Good fans review. Thanks.

- Blaque Midnyte -


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